Maker Harry
by paskinmath
Summary: The Dursley's repeated rants that he could 'only make a mess of things' caused young Harry to fixate on making nice things. He finds allies and a zeal for learning. How does this change things. Starts pre Hogwarts, Infrequent/Irregular updates. Not Beta-ed.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Dursleys of 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, were happy to say they were perfectly normal, thank you! They would be lying. They hid a very shameful secret. Petunia's unwelcome nephew was a freak. Or rather, Harry, like his parents, was magical (not that he knew anything about it), therefore he had no place in their perfectly normal world, and so was a freak. From far too young an age Harry was doing all of the chores in the home. He grew up constantly berated and derided. He lived in the cupboard under the stairs, barely fed (though he did most of the cooking) and never loved. Though he took great care with all he did, so as not to get assigned extra chores or punishment, Harry was constantly told that 'all you make is trouble' 'you will never make anything of yourself' and 'you couldn't make anything good if you tried'. He started to believe if he could make nice things, maybe someone would love him a little? Or at least not hate him as much? He would lie awake or daydream at his chores about making nice things. As he started school he would hang around anyone he saw making or repairing anything, as well as hiding in the library from Dudley who liked to play 'Harry Hunting' and beat him up.

The library had already been a decent refuge, and then Harry discovered the How To section. He could have happily spent his life there. Real instructions and pretty pictures of people making wonderful and beautiful things! He soaked it up like a sponge. Unlike his schoolwork where he got in trouble if he did better than his cousin, here he was allowed to excel. Despite the fact that most of the neighborhood and certainly the school administration thought that Harry was a little delinquent, mostly because he wore his cousin's enormous and ratty hand-me-downs and his relatives never had a kind word about him, there were a few among the school staff that realized just how special Harry was. These included the librarian, the custodian, and later the shop teacher.

His kindergarten teacher had actually stood up for him and reported the situation, but the principal was a friend of the Dursleys, so she was fired. Upon seeing that the others decided to help covertly as they couldn't afford to lose their jobs, and they still wanted to help Harry. First the Custodian offered to take any detentions Harry got and made it seem like he would be unsympathetic, but also offer a trade and some harsh discipline when talking to the Principal and the Dursleys. In reality, Mr. Franks had explained the situation to Harry and Harry got to spend time in nice company and get at least one real meal each day. Harry, in turn, helped out any way he could.

Harry helped clean and make repairs around the school. Sometimes the Librarian, Ms. Markham, would come and sit with them after hours while Mr. Franks was working and teach harry skills like how to repair and then how to tailor his clothes a bit so they fit a lot better. He was so good at it that he almost got into trouble with his relatives because his clothes started to look too good. When he said that he helped with some of the repairs on some of the cloth goods at school because he was too small to help with some of the heavy work yet, she calmed down and gave him the mending to do. Ms. Markham started to offer him her mending to earn some pocket change that he wouldn't accept when she tried to just give it to him and she had done so much for him already. He turned around and started to make her new clothes with the help of Mr. Franks to get the fabric.

The group had gotten permission to sort of apprentice to Mr. Franks over the summer. They had gone to the Dursleys and said things like 'don't want him to think the summer means a vacation' and 'he may not amount to much, but he will learn a good work ethic' and otherwise imply that Harry would be miserable and worked to the bone. The principal got free labor out of it, and made nice with Vernon-who was considering taking his son onto his sales team at Grunnings. The Dursleys got Harry out of their hair. Harry got to spend time around kind people who treated him fairly, fed him well, and showed him how to _make things_!

One of the best parts of this new arrangement, apart from eating regularly, was that he finally got to celebrate his birthday with something other than a longer than normal chore list. For his sixth birthday, Ms. Markham and Mr. Franks took him to an old world crafts demonstration. He learned so many wonderful things like how to make a garden wall with fallen wood and young branches from prunings, or several old school cooking techniques like making yoghurt and making butter from cream. What really caught his attention was the woodworking, specifically whittling, and all of the fiber working-spinning, dyeing, and weaving the fibers. There were some stunning woven coverlets and hand stitched quilts on display as well as samples of lace from the traditional cottage industry of the greater UK, Ireland in particular. His brain almost exploded from the possibilities. Most of the exhibitors were utterly charmed by his rapt attention and intelligent questions at such a young age. The spinner even gave him a drop spindle and some wool roving to start off with, and showed him how to use it. When he told her that she had helped to make this his best birthday ever, she almost cried.

Later as Harry was talking to the weaver about her work and the tools involved she spoke to Ms. Markham about the situation. While the living history museum where the event was held was too far away for frequent visits, they did swap contact information and over the years kept up a lively correspondence, both the teachers and Harry. She also helped spread the word around the exhibitors to give Harry a little more attention and care. As a result, by the time the group made it over to the woodworking area, the main presenter, who was showing of the results of whitling, showed Harry all of the steps to make spoons and other kitchen utensils, as well as pegs and shims to help secure and fix even some modern furniture. He walked through what he thought the most important tools to have and the order in which to get them and how to care for them. At the end of the day he gave Harry a small-handled whittling knife and sharpening stone, and showed him how to use them. At this Harry couldn't take it anymore and broke down crying. As Mr. Franks rushed over to see what was wrong, Harry was starting to say how he had never had a birthday present before this year, and everyone was so nice this year. He kept trying to promise to pay the woodworker back for the kit and needed to be told over and over that it was a gift. After profusely thanking the woodworker, Harry and Ms. Markham went to go clean off his face while Mr. Franks clarified the situation. A few minutes later a very angry (on Harry's behalf) woodworker joined the correspondence crew. Mr. Franks was also given a bag or interesting wood blanks for Harry to play with after he got a little better than raw beginner, and some easy to work wood for that stage as well. It had easily been the best birthday of his life. Harry quietly promised himself to find out when Mr. Franks' and Ms. Markham's (and the generous exhibitors') birthdays were and repay the kindness to the best of his ability.

The year passed slowly, and the first grade teacher was somewhat sympathetic to the situation, so she gave Harry independent work for his higher level, but kept his official scores low. She also assigned him plenty of detentions to give him as much safe time away from his relatives as possible. She ended up of Harry's list of kindly people he made gifts for. He was still crafting up a storm. He had started to run out of people to give things like spoons and yarn to. He has also gotten very good at sewing. Though it was slow, he was making complete garments by hand to give away. They were fairly fashionable and incredibly comfortable and hard wearing. They were just special over and above being a gift made with love. This year the school had a year long charity project. The students had to come up with a way to help others. Dudley pretended to help at his Aunt Marge's kennel, when really Harry did all the work. Harry decided to make teddies to give to kids in the hospital. Each toy he made he filled with wishes of health and comfort. He asked for help from some of the local parents (all the students who needed supplies had the chance to do so) and was given all sorts of bits of cloth. He took a picture of each teddy, and sent a letter wishing the recipient good wishes and to get better soon. He ended up making so many teddies that some had to be sent on to other hospitals. At Harry's suggestion some were also sent to a local orphanage. While no one noticed at the time, the kids who got one of Harry's teddies seemed to be helped a little more than just being cheered up. The kids however, cherished the toys for many years after.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

For his seventh birthday the not so little conspiracy went in together and, in addition to a return trip to the living history exhibition, got him a sewing machine. He kept it at the school so no one would break it just to be mean. This year's visit he got to show off his picture book of teddies and also some pictures of the utensils that he made. He even had whittled a very nice drop spindle to give to the spinner and fairly fancy storage box for a whetstone for the woodworker. They had meanwhile shared his story around, and everyone was willing to answer all sorts of questions and give him samples or tools to start out in whatever craft they taught. Harry went home with all sorts of things and even a few books. He also went home with a ton of wool and other fibers to play with. This year someone taught him how to knit and read a knitting pattern, as well as a nice set of knitting needles. The woodworker gave him a hatchet and careful instructions to only use it with an adult, and a book about how to make a full set of tools starting with the bare minimum, as long as you could buy a few metal bits for the blades of the tools. Harry was fascinated. One of the odder things he was given was a book about calligraphy and nib to put in a feather like a quill but more durable, and ink. It was suggested that he ask his teacher if he could treat it like an art project, and a history project and write up a book about his crafting experiences. He was later allowed.

In the school, one of Harry's favorite places to clean was the Shop classroom. The local primary was host to a pilot program so there was a full woodshop in the primary, and the secondary had an auto shop as well. As time went on, Mr. Hunt saw the care with which Harry handled the tools and the awe he showed at the current projects. Eventually Mr. Hunt joined Mr. Franks and Ms. Markham in their little conspiracy. When Harry was eight, Mr. Hunt started to teach Harry how to make things in the woodshop, though he had helped with assembly and the like before, he had been too young and too small physically to use the big tools like power saws and some of the sharper hand tools. It was like someone turned on the sun, Harry's smile was so bright.

Unlike first grade, the second grade teacher wasn't as comfortable with the little conspiracy, but she was a nice woman. She just had a hard time believing in so ridiculous a situation as described by the other adults and Harry. When harry took home a report that showed that he had significantly outperformed Dudley, he was mysteriously sick for a week, and when he came back he was a lot more skittish around adults and his joy was dimmed. Apparently Vernon didn't take kindly to the 'freak' looking better than his precious son. That was the first time he had genuinely beat Harry, first slapping him hard, then he whipped him with a belt until he was unconscious. He made Harry stay in his cupboard under the stairs until the bruise faded enough, doing innumerable chores around the house. Unlike Mr. Franks, being too small or not yet strong enough to do a task was no excuse for Vernon. Also he was not getting the food the friends provided. Upon his return to school he walked up to his teacher with Petunia dogging his steps. Though the teacher tried to allow privacy, Petunia insisted he abase himself in front of everyone. She made him apologize for cheating off of Dudley's work (though Dudley had scored lower and they didn't sit near enough to do that) and for trying to make himself look like he was 'worthwhile' to anyone, and then apologize to the teacher directly for lying about his work. She then insisted that the teacher assign him classroom cleanup chores for at least a month both for recess and afterschool, to be coordinated with Mr. Franks.

Utterly flabbergasted Ms. Miles went along with everything until the entire class was laughing at Harry and then made them get back to work. She thanked Petunia and said she understood the situation completely and his punishment would be suitable, then walked her out to the hallway while having the class read silently for twenty minutes. In the hallway Petunia was suggesting utterly inappropriate chores for Harry to do and lamenting that the school no longer offered corporal punishment as it is the only thing the 'wretch' understood, 'delinquent that he is, unlike my wonderful boy'. Ms. Miles played along and suggested that the time merely be added on to the time with Mr. Franks, and was she sure that a month was enough? Honestly for that level of academic misbehavior it should at least be for half the year, as the school didn't have academic probation available (it was only primary school after all). Petunia's expression was positively gleeful at that.

"Oh no, the whole year would make it really sink in wouldn't it. Perhaps till eight instead of six? Yes that is appropriate."

"What about his dinner?"

"Well he is on punishment. A cold sandwich will do" Ms. Miles was horrified. This woman was gleefully considering putting her nephew, her flesh and blood on short rations for a year for doing well in school? The ridiculous story about cheating off of Dudley, or anyone else was nonsense of course. She finally believed what the little conspiracy had been saying, and took a moment, after Petunia walked away joyously envisioning the freak's suffering, to compose herself. As the class was still reading silently (mostly-Dudley was misbehaving as usual) she got the few whose attention was wandering back on track then sat at her desk to pen an apology to Harry and a promise to do whatever she could to protect him in the future, asking him to talk during lunch recess. She stealthily slipped the note to Harry as she walked around the class.

When lunch came around, she dismissed the class, and Harry stayed behind. Dudley couldn't pass up a chance to mock him about missing recess, but honestly Harry prefered not having to hide from Dudley. If he had to clean the classroom, it was frankly a good trade. After the rest of the kids left, Ms Miles handed him her sandwich as he had none and they began to talk.

"I know I said it in the note, but I am so sorry for what I helped put you through by not believing you. It is just so insane that anyone could behave so abnormally."

Harry actually snorted-good he wasn't broken, just subdued, "they pride themselves on being normal. It's the reason they hate me, though I don't know what makes me so abnormal in the first place besides how they treat me"

"I couldn't tell you, and frankly I don't want to be able to understand that level of crazy. I have what I hope will be good news. It didn't take long to get a read on her, so I took a page out of Mr. Franks' playbook and encouraged 'punishment' of a type that will actually provide you with safety. You are on effectively academic probation. What this means is that you will give the school, or rather Ms. Markham and Mr. Franks an extra two hours a day for the school year. Though your Aunt said you would get a cold sandwich after coming home after dinner, what it means is that you get to eat a real meal with us. I am officially joining your little conspiracy."

Harry took this in quietly and smiled while eating her sandwich. "Thank you. I should clean up a little in here or Dudley will report that I'm not being punished enough."

"I'll help. I promise to send home fake grades if you promise to do your best work." Harry nodded in reply. His best work was well ahead of the others. He adored reading, and so much math and science was involved in his beloved making of things that he was really advanced for primary school.

The rest of the year went much more smoothly. He learned a lot from all of his favorites. He had started to call him his heart family, as opposed to his relatives, and he loved them as fiercely as they loved him. He kept up the project of teddies for the kids who might need or want them, and the hospitals in turn helped by donating supplies for him like fabric and buttons and thread. He learned how to do some pretty embroidery stitches to make things like fur and whiskers, but unlike the fur fabrics, they were washable, which was important in the hospitals. He also started making other patterns. Some of the people from the demonstrations who he had been writing to helped out as well. As long as they kept his name and face out of it, Harry said they could promote the program as much as they wanted. Ms Markham even went so far as to get legal papers for a not-for-profit called Caring Cuddles. She took care of the paperwork, though taught Harry all about what she was doing and asked his opinions whenever she had to make a decision. Over the years, Harry made thousands of toys to give to those who might want them, and the charity itself took on a life of its own. A year and a half later Petunia had mocked his little attempt at 'pretending he was anything other than a freak' and compared his pathetic attempts to the roaringly successful charity with such a sad story! How could anyone treat their family that way!'. Ms. Markham had said that especially without using his name or face, they at least needed some of the story of why this project. So Harry had explained that he had never had a teddy growing up, and thought how scared he was and how much he wanted one, so maybe there are others who want one too. He thought about who might be sad or scared and came up with sick kids and orphans, as he was an orphan and had often been sick or hurt and alone. He even said that the people he lived with would prevent the project from continuing if they found out about it, that was why he hid who he was. When Petunia made that last comment about family, it was all he could do not to explode-whether it would be laughter or rage was undetermined, and he didn't want to find out. His conspiracy had a good laugh about it later.

In the woodshop, Mr. Hunt helped him use the book about making tools from scratch. He also gave Harry a few tools to start out with and some of the parts to make others. He gave Harry a good handsaw and a wedge, as well as the blade for a handplane, which they would build the body of together. He taught harry about caring for his tools, how best to keep them sharp. He also helped Harry build a few things for himself including a shelf for all of his own books and a stunning toolchest. In the old days, a woodworkers toolchest was something like a resume. It both showed the care he took with his tools, and exhibited various techniques that he was capable of. He got Harry a large collection of catalogs to show what kind of specialized tools were out there, and also inspire him in his projects. Harry was already an accomplished whittler, but he started to make things he could sell, as Mr. Hunt had a friend who did craft shows and was willing to sell some of his things. As before, Ms. Markham helped him make out paperwork for a business with her as the caretaker as he was a minor. Harry was hoping to make a little pocket money, maybe enough to buy some fancy wood or new tools, but Harry's products developed a devoted following. His spoons and other utensils seemed to make the food taste better, or cleanup easier, didn't scratch the pans at all, etc. His ornaments just seemed extra special, and there were people who got one every year.

He still kept spinning yarn with his drop spindle, and knit with it. It was the only way he ended up having decently warm clothing. If his family gave him any decent clothes, his relatives accused him of stealing. If he said they were presents, he risked losing the ability to spend time with them because if the Dursleys though he was liked or that he was enjoying himself they would find a way to ruin it. So they gave him supplies to make things with. He could say he was practicing as he had been assigned, and it was something useful so as to not be wasteful, but he needed to practice on something unimportant so he wouldn't mess up something valuable. What he would be fixing for the school custodian, his Aunt didn't ask, rather she took the opening to mock him about being guaranteed to mess things up.

Harry also kept up his correspondence with the spinner and other fibercrafters at the museum. In addition to all of the help they provided on the Caring Cuddles project, they also discussed the various merits and disadvantages for assorted tools. He really wanted a Spinning wheel, but he wanted to make it. Same for a loom. He had made potholders and the like with simple cardboard looms made out of scraps, but he wanted to be able to weave things like the stunning masterpieces he had seen at the museum. That summer for his birthday, in addition to the now traditional trip to living history museum, he was given many more supplies and a ton of books, as well as building plans for both a loom and a spinning wheel, as well as vouchers for some of the parts he would have to buy. His summer project was the loom as he already had a way to spin, even if the wheel was much more efficient, but he had no way to really weave. At the museum he learned about what kinds of plants can be used to dye fibers, and how to make salves and balms. He learned about beekeeping, but didn't think he would be allowed to do that, also Dudley would probably shove him into the hive and that would be bad all around. Despite it's lack of feasibility, he still took in the information and curiosity about how there is so much more to gardening than just weeding and watering. He learned about canning and preserving, salting, smoking, and pickling. Since he was the one who did all of the work in the garden, he thought he would be able to suggest this in a way that Petunia would accept, at least the canning. Maybe something about showing the neighbors up for thriftiness as opposed to wasting the produce they didn't eat, and how nice it would be to have fresh homemade sauce for pasta with all of the tomatoes they grew. For crafts, Harry learned more about weaving and the different types of looms and tools involved, and what kind of yarn worked best for different fabric or weave structures. This year there was a large display on quilting, so he learned a great deal about that, and he had tons of tiny scraps from the teddies that were too small to use for that, and fabric that had been donated that wasn't suitable to the project. He had read about other charities and that some made colorful blankets and quilts to give to kids. He learned about older sewing techniques like smocking and a little more about lace. The bobbin lace was pretty cool, the bobbins were almost musical as they bumped into each other, like wind chimes, and the patterns were really cool. Though he made a tiny sample and took home a quality kit (a present) he was more interested in making the bobbins as lace, as neat as it was to make, was of limited use to a young boy. From the woodworker this year, he got to see a lathe. Woodturning was amazing. Like most woodworking, it could be dangerous and you had to be very careful, but woodturning was just too cool! The school shop didn't have a lathe-yet, but it was definitely going on the wish list.

Please review-I don't have a Beta, so constructive criticism is desired please.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

For third grade there was a bit of a complication. This teacher was a friend of the Dursley's and the principal, and bought into all of their lies about Harry. Mr. Millbridge was frankly a right pillock. He was a boring teacher, and he didn't really care about the students. He liked to humiliate kids as punishment. This year they had to arrange to 'punish' Harry by making him work with Mr. Franks and Mr. Hunt cleaning for most of lunch-instead of recess. He also got frequent detentions to be served in addition to the scheduled times with the custodian, so effectively he ended up with nearly the same schedule as the prior year. That meant he got to continue to eat at least two good healthy meals a day. He was no longer so much smaller than all of his classmates, and since he could sew, he could make his clothes fit fairly well. Harry made sure to reinforce this by relating gossip that painted Petunia in a somewhat abnormal light like 'it's good to see they are finally making him care about his appearance. He used to always be such an embarrassment'. As a result the neighborhood started to give him a chance and not automatically assume that he was a delinquent. They commented favorably about his relatives 'must be doing something right' and how at least he was industrious, always having some project or two with him-whittling or sanding parts for outdoors and knitting or sewing of some sort for indoors, or a book to read. Now that he was older, he had realized that he wouldn't ever earn any kind of good will from the Dursleys, but it was still a passion for him. He also decided to be as unlike the Dursleys as possible. He planned to take the high road. Even though various neighbors had been rude or even downright unkind and mean, he still helped the older folks to carry their shopping home. He helped with some repairs. There was one older lady a few blocks away on his way to and from school who had figured out the truth about the situation and had always been kinder than the rest, but couldn't afford to be too generous. Harry went out of his way to help her out. She may not be able to pay him in much more than cookies, but she had at least always been nice. Mrs. Marsh was a sweet old widow with no living family. She couldn't see well up close anymore, but she used to do a lot of crafts, and her husband had been a woodworker.

One day she walked herself to the school on a day that she knew Harry was with the Dursleys and talked to Mr. Franks and Mr. Hunt. She stated plainly that though she may not be able to see very well anymore, she wasn't blind thank you. She knew very well the situation with the Dursleys. She wanted to give Harry all of her husband's old tools and her own. Mr. Hunt said that some of them may be worth a pretty penny if the descriptions were accurate, but Mrs. Marsh was adamant.

"I can tell my time is nearly up, and the dratted boy won't let me give them to him. He is very happy to use them, and he makes sure the blades are all sharp and oiled, and the other things are polished and protected, but he won't accept them. I know I can't just leave them to him in my will as they would just end up sold or worse-trashed-by the Dursleys. I want him have them as he will care for them and use them well. He is such a wonderful boy, and I wish I had done more for him. Can I get your help this week to get everything organized and packed up? I have no living relatives. My house is mortgaged and will be taken by the bank. I would like anything left to go to that boy in trust and in care of anyone but the Dursleys. Will you help me in this please?"

"I would be delighted. And I think you did more for him than you think. You reminded him of kindness when no one else did. He is a very private little boy, but you are precious to him." Mr. Franks replied and Mr. Hunt agreed. They arranged to help over the next two weeks as their schedules allowed. They also recommended Ms. Markham to handle the trust as she already helped with the increasingly large charity and the not so small business. They promised to ask for her help.

"Aha! I knew it. That Teddybear charity is his isn't it! I knew it. I am glad. I have no idea how such a kind and wonderful boy managed to survive living with those horrible grumps!"

The gentleman both laughed at the nickname. "That is certainly the most polite way I have ever heard them referred to negatively." Mr Hunt said with a grin, "Yes, confidentially, that is his charity. We are all somewhat overwhelmed with how much it had caught on. There are schools participating as part of their home ec curriculum, there are sewing and quilting groups churning out teddies by the hundreds. We have donations towards postage and materials, kindly letters to send with the gifts, scrapbookers sending handmade cards for him to write notes in. We had to rent a storage facility to deal with everything, and we are about to have to hire someone, or at least get a few volunteers. Harry still makes a teddy every few days, his goal is at least one hundred a year, and they all have notes done in calligraphy attached just for the child who gets it, and they are all personalized as much as they can be for an unknown recipient. We have hospitals and orphanages all over the country on the waiting list, we have a newsletter about the counts of everything and the waiting lists, as well as some of the thank yous. It really started out as a way to help him learn about budgeting and legal papers as well as time management and record keeping, but it really just snowballed because it's such a good story as well as a good cause. There are people having Teddy parties where they make or package up masses of them, then send them along either to us or to a few of our designated drop off points where a volunteer documents them and sends them on to the kids. It is wonderful to be part of it. There are few local quilt stores that are willing to make kits to sell and send part of the proceeds to us. Harry came up with several different designs of different animals and carefully wrote out easy to follow directions. They are available with and without fabric. It has really taken on a life of its own." After a pause he added, "Losing you will break his heart more than a little. But he will think of you fondly every time he uses the tools. It will really mean the world to him. It would help if you are able to sort of say goodbye to him and make sure he knows you aren't sad."

"I will do that. How about if you all come over for dinner in two weeks." Everyone agreed to the plan. The packing up went smoothly, and some of the tools were in fact very valuable to collectors, but they were far more valuable to Harry as useful and well loved tools. It turned out that one of the few power tools that Mr. Marsh had owned was in fact a very nice lathe. He also had a large assortment of chisels and other tools to go with it. One of the best treasures was some of the aged, dried wood and rough turned bowls. There was a small mountain of them. They were all packed with care. Many of the chemicals and finishes were too dried out to be useful, so they were safely disposed of. The fabric collection was carefully packed up along with the yarn and thread and a large assortment of accessories. Even some of the household goods like kitchen tools and table linens and the like were carefully packed up and labeled. They would all be moved to a storage facility that would be paid for out of the estate. The farewell dinner was a happy and sad affair. Harry understood that Mrs. Marsh was very tired, and not in the sleepy sense, and had lived a full life. She and Harry had a very long conversation about so many things including the charity, his current projects, what kind of man he was already becoming, and finally said that her biggest regret was not showing him more kindness when he was younger. Harry protested. She made him take her special sewing box. It was a marvelous, gorgeous box her husband had made for her that had all sorts of compartments and tools and memories. He hugged it then her, then the box again.

"I don't know if it will be tonight or next week, but it will be soon. I am glad I got to know you, glad I got to say goodbye. I promise I will tell your parents all about you. I can't imagine the parents of such a wonderful boy as you were anything like what the Dursley's say. They lie about everything else. I love you dear one. It's time for me to sleep."

Harry was still hugging the box, but also took her hand. "I love you to. You are the first to ever say that to me." Which made all the other adults cry.

"I won't be the last. They may not say it, but they feel it. I can tell."

"Me too." Mr. Franks, Mr. Hunt, and Ms. Markham all came up and hugged Harry and said they loved him and were sorry for not saying the words earlier.

"You showed me. It is easy to lie with words. You showed me the truth of how you feel about me with your actions. I love you all too." Shortly after this Mrs. Marsh's breathing slowed then stopped. Everyone was silent. Harry sat holding her hand crying silent tears. After a few minutes, they bundled Harry off to the living room and called the police. It didn't take very long for a policeman and a coroner to arrive and take their statements. Harry was still hugging the box and was wrapped in one of the quilts that She had made. After giving their statements, helped by the fact that she had informed the local police that she felt this would happen soon and her plans for the boy including copies of all of her official paperwork like a will, Mr. Hunt helped Ms. Markham take Harry home to her flat. She didn't want to consign him to the cupboard tonight, and they would probably damage either the box or the quilt both of which were precious to Harry. Mr. Franks went over to the Dursleys to explain things and apologize for the inconvenience. He also explained to the officer, who was in fact a friend who knew some of the details but not everything, how he would sound so different in talking to the Dursleys and why.

"And before you get all huffy about making an official report, it has been tried. Nothing comes of it, and Dursley's got friends in high places. This way we work around them and Harry actually gets most of what he needs, rather than failing and him losing all of us." Needless to say the officer wasn't pleased with the situation, but he had seen enough in his life to understand, and more importantly play along.

The Dursleys were as disagreeable as always, but they spun it as not wanting to bother the Dursleys when the police got their statements, and since Ms. Markham needed to answer the same questions, it made sense for the evening as no one was sure how long it would take. Vernon made some comment about 'the freak might as well get used to the law, it's not like he'll ever be anything but a delinquent criminal' and slammed the door.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. That kid is the sweetest little boy I have ever met. He could barely speak for tears hugging that box and the blanket. If ever a kid wasn't going to be a criminal, it's him. I'm in. If you ever need my help, you've got it. I don't think anyone has any more questions at the moment, but if we do they will come tomorrow. I take it the kid doesn't know he's the beneficiary?"

"No he doesn't, and you just met why. Anything of value would be stolen out from under him, and anything sentimental would be destroyed just because they could."

"Yeah...I believe it. Is that the crafter extraordinaire you had been telling me about?"

"Yep! I swear anything that kid decides to make comes out amazing. Even the starter projects when just starting out are impressive. I had a thought" Franks ignored the 'uh oh' from his buddy, "you guys hold an auction to raise money for the families of fallen officers right? Would things like hand made utensils, ornaments, teddies, yarn, or blankets be useful to you?"

"Absolutely! The teddies maybe not for the auction itself, I'd rather give those to the kids. If ever there was a time when you need a huggable toy, after the loss of a parent is one, or even after their injury. That would be great. It's like that charity that had been making news lately"

"I will suggest it to Harry, though I have no doubt that he will be thrilled to help. And yes, it is exactly like that charity. Who do you think started it. I am only telling you as my friend, and because I trust you. That isn't for any report or to share."

"Yeah. Got it. That group has done a heck of a lot of good for kids. I was there in a hospital visiting a squadmate who had been hurt and we got to help out with a distribution. We got to help some of the kids read the notes with the toys. The smiles on those kids' faces were frankly why I do this job. Some of my friends wanted to help out and sent in some money, but is there anything else we could do? We are none of us rich, but we wanted to help out"

"They could use volunteers to document and sort, then pack up and deliver the toys and letters. Every single toy gets a picture taken and every letter sent out gets copied for records. If we get a thank you, that gets recorded and stored. Harry has a series of enormous binders of what they have done. He has a separate binder with all that he has done personally, though I think it is multiple volumes by now. He makes so many things, he barely has time for anything else, but he has a goal to make at least 100 teddies himself each year and makes the letters in pretty calligraphy to go along with them. He also spends a lot of time doing the record keeping, but we could use some help rather desperately with that, especially the photos. If you know anyone with a functional copier that we could use for free or that they are willing to part with for free or cheap, that would be wonderful. We can also always use office supplies and the like. We need people who are willing to help make calls to hospitals and fabric stores and coordinate with some of the sewing and other groups who contribute. There are tons of ways to help. Honestly, even keeping an eye out for yard sales and estate sales with fabric and the like would be useful. There is unfortunately a never-ending supply of kids who could use a teddy."

"I'll see what the boys and I can come up with. Just a thought, but if we let a few of the guys know, confidentially of course, they would be more likely to help out with the Dursley issue as well, if Harry ever needs it."

"I will keep that in mind. For now, I would prefer you don't even let Harry know that you know. You can say I talked about how much he contributes to the charity rather than that it is his charity."

"Sure. I'll let you get some sleep tonight, and I will talk to the kid tomorrow some time. Likely early afternoon or late morning, but I will call first."

"Thanks for your help John. I mean it. This would have gone a whole lot worse if someone less understanding was involved, or even worse, one of Dursley's buddies. I'll see you tomorrow"

In the weeks that followed, Harry was quite subdued, but he did realize that Mrs. Marsh was no longer suffering, and had lived a good life. He also thought a lot about his parents and the recurring dream, or rather nightmare, about a redhead begging, cruel laughter, and a green light. He didn't know what his mother looked like, but he thought that might be who the redhead was. For at least an hour each day, he sat doing one of the thread crafts, knitting, sewing, or working on the teddies, while sitting wrapped up in Mrs. Marsh's quilt. He remembered the stories she had told him about each square. As a way of remembering her, he decided to write down as many of the stories he could remember and make a book of it. Over the years that book became a way to calm himself down and remember the good when everything around him was chaos.

In the weeks that followed, he also got to learn about the lathe and how to use it. He was able to contact a friend of a friend from the museum who could come and help him set it up and give a few lessons to both Harry and Mr. Hunt. Harry had made arrangements to set it up in the woodshop, though only the most talented students would be allowed to use it. The principal agreed to the 'anonymous donation/loan' never realizing that it was Harry, who he still believed was a delinquent who was only barely avoiding trouble with the law despite the fact that he was only eight. He also didn't realize that Harry had been a significant helper in all of the new furniture that was showing up in school. The teachers of younger students who still had nap time were given piles of pillows and some cuddly blankets and stuffies. The classrooms got nice bookshelves, and the teachers were slowly getting new desks-supposedly by lottery, but in reality it was mostly those teachers who were nice to Harry. Harry had even been the key person in setting up a display of both tools and finished products in the halls outside of the shop classroom. Mr. Hunt had friends who worked in tree service who could be paid a little extra and the better haul away found itself outside the classroom instead of just dumped. He had to help Harry lift the larger logs, and then help him cut them down, but the bowls and plates that were the result were definitely worth it. Harry started making very fancy dish sets complete with lovely wooden case that he offered for sale and a few as gifts to his heart family. Another project was to make fancy sewing boxes like the Mrs. Marsh's. Both sold incredibly well Harry was starting to build up quite a nest egg.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next two years were more of the same. The fourth grade teacher was neutral and didn't want to be involved anymore than he had to be, and the fifth grade teacher helped where she could, including tailored lesson plans based on Harry's actual level rather than the one his grades showed. Everyone figured he could do better in secondary once he was at a different school than Dursley, then ace his standardized tests. Even better the fifth grade teacher was willing to give him credit from his craft projects that applied to the topics of study. In terms of Harry's skills, he mastered weaving. He found out he loved drafting patterns for different weave structures, he also loved playing with color. All of his family had blankets and coats and some other clothes that he had woven then sewn, and in some cases had spun the yarn for. He had experimented with other materials than wool when he could, he had even raised a few generations of silkworms and spun and wove that. He dabbled with embroidery, but it wasn't his favorite. He had finally gotten a chance to play with bobbin lace, and enjoyed the process but had little use for the end product, and it was crazily time intensive. Japanese Kumihimo and its Chinese analog were far more promising, and he was able to make the tools for those crafts, both for himself and to sell. He had made several quilts, and got some math credit for the interesting patterns and writing up the properties of the various shapes. He had put together a very impressive dower chest for himself, just by keeping some of his favorite creations. He still knit, and had learned to crochet, but he was more likely to carry around a teddy to work on to keep his hands busy. In woodworking, his favorite was by far the lathe, but he also loved making chests with inlay. Inlay was like a revelation when he discovered it. It was like quilting with wood. It was a perfect amalgam of his two main branches of crafting. Interestingly, he made quite a bit of money selling strips of inlay which if you had the patience to make at all, it was actually much easier to make in bulk than in small batches. It took negligibly more wood and supplies to make several hundred strip batches than ten strip batches, and in some cases the longer pieces were actually easier to work with. He had learned several carving techniques, his favorite of which by far was chip carving (and whittling). Harry had long since become the unofficial teacher of the woodworking club, all of whom treated him kindly and were sympathetic to his circumstances and in no way friendly to the Dursleys. The kids, some of whom were several years older, realized that he was something of a savant and it didn't hurt that Harry was so friendly about teaching them, and his excitement and love for his craft were contagious.

In terms of the people in his life, Harry still corresponded regularly with the folks from the museum, and they gave him many supplies and reference materials. They also helped him with connections like for the tree service people and places to sell some of his wares-in the museum gift shop. The museum got to keep a nice percentage of the sales, and he still turned a profit, and got to fund his crafting habit. Ms. Markham and Mr. Hunt were dating, and likely to get married in the next year or so. Mr. Franks was considering retiring when Harry moved on to another school and maybe working for the Caring Cuddles charity. John, Franks' officer friend had come through big time with some of his buddies and especially some of their wives. There was a small army that was now in the know about Harry's position with the charity, and loved it all the more for it. They basically took over most of the operations. There was also enough money donated (by people other than Harry) that some could be invested, and they could be compensated for at least some of their time.

Everything was going fairly well, which of course meant something was going to happen soon to change all of that. No one expected the change to come from a fairly innocuous, if fancy, envelope. About a week before his birthday, Harry was spending one of his unfortunate days with the Dursleys. Given how often he was elsewhere, they piled on chores for his to do list to earn his meager food. This day was no exception. He had already started laundry, cleaned the bathrooms, and was about to serve breakfast-though he wouldn't get any. When the mail arrived Vernon told Dudley to get it. Dudley whined annoyingly, so Harry was made to get it. It included a very fancy envelope addressed to:

Harry J. Potter

Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging, Surrey

Knowing immediately that if they Dursleys saw it they would take it, he slipped it under the door to the cupboard on the way back to the table. The day progressed as normal. Harry did chore after chore well into the very late night. By the time he was able to go back to his cupboard, he had no energy to look into the weird letter, and there was no light to see it well enough anyway. In the morning he had more chores to do. This morning Vernon actually got the mail. It turned out there was another envelope that matched the first. While Harry had expected to be mocked over anyone possibly wanting to write to him, he did not expect the response he got. Vernon frantically called for Petunia exclaiming that the Freaks had sent a letter, then kicked both Harry and Dudley upstairs to have a discussion without an audience. Both kids attempted to listen at the door, but Dudley was torn between listening and bothering Harry, and made too much noise, getting them both kicked out to the yard for a while-Harry to do the weeding and Dudley to go play. When he was eventually allowed back in it was decided that Harry would be moving into Dudley's second bedroom, currently used mostly as a graveyard of broken toys that was so full that you could barely get in. Of course he would be required to clean it up first. He was to throw out most of the broken stuff. Harry offered to use Mr. Franks' truck to take the enormous amount of stuff to the dumpster at school, and mentioned that he might be able to repair some of it, or at least use it to learn how to repair others. Petunia agreed, and allowed Harry to call Mr. Franks to arrange it.

For the first time in his life, no amount of tantrums thrown by Dudley managed to change the Dursley's minds, though he did get many treats and gifts out of it. It was kind of fascinating to see some of the broken things. The television that had a hole through the screen was useless, and would be tossed, but the bike had a bent fork and some popped spokes on the front wheel. Not currently rideable, but fairly easily repairable at a bike shop, which Harry could now afford to do. He decided that he would take before, process, and after pictures of all the stuff he fixed. It would help make a decent resume/reference, not to mention act as proof if the Dursleys complained about Harry having 'new' things. In all of that the letter was somewhat forgotten for the day. Vernon was sent out to get a mattress from a second hand shop, and it was just dumped on the floor with some second hand sheets. Harry asked Petunia if he could make a bed frame and drawers and the like and bring them home, as he was learning how repair and make furniture at the school. She agreed while scorning anything he would attempt to make, but also stated they certainly wouldn't be getting anything for him. One of the best treasures he found was a bookshelf full of books that Dudley had been given over the years that hadn't been touched. It included both classic literature and reference books. Harry expected he would enjoy exploring more fully later. Harry and Mr. Franks loaded up his truck with a first load of most of the obviously repairable or obvious trash and planned to make another trip the following weekend once Harry had a chance to sort things more. While he didn't know why yet, it was clear that major changes were afoot.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Upon arrival at the school and unloading of the truck, Harry asked to talk to everyone about what had happened. He had brought his unopened copy of the letter with him. He was very nervous, as it had already caused so many changes and no one had even read it yet! So he gathered his heart family around him and described the situation as he knew it, then opened and read the letter.

"It has to be a joke! Witchcraft and Wizardry? Really?" Harry exclaimed after a long pause where everyone was speechless.

"I'm not so sure of that." Mrs. Markham replied, while both Mr. Franks and Mr. Hunt nodded. At Harry's incredulous look he continued, "Think about it. Why else would the morons react the way they did? It would also explain a lot. You may not know it, but John and some others looked into your parents deaths for me as I always thought the morons were lying to you about them, but what they found didn't add up. Now keep in mind I only have partial information yet, and I only found out most of this very recently. I was planning on telling you about it this summer and then taking you to visit their graves as I know you have never been. First of all they were found in their house, so that is the first lie. They were not killed in a drunk driving accident. In fact there is no evidence they even owned a vehicle. The official cause of death is gas leak and explosion, but even that doesn't hold up. The main damage was upstairs where there is no reason to be any gas, apart from the door being blown in. Your father was found downstairs, and your mother was upstairs. There were no burns or fire damage, just explosive damage. So as I said, nothing adds up. The only records of your father that I can find are your birth certificate and their marriage license. Nothing on him that doesn't connect to you or your mother. If these 'witches and wizards' are in fact another community, which seems likely if they have their own school-it suggests that there are real numbers of them, and the fact that they haven't been discovered suggests some level of organization, then your father was probably part of it. The morons probably knew about it. Think about it. They call you and your parents Freaks like it means something specific. They mention Freakish behavior like you can hear the capital letter. They use it when referring to something odd or abnormal-to them at least. You have always been a remarkable kid. There is something different about you. Just look at how fast you heal up. You have a injury that would take weeks to really heal do it in days."

"You often get so sucked into your work, you don't realize it, but you lift things that you aren't strong enough to lift. You drop things and they bounce rather than break. Also the things you make are just special. Not everything, but when you are making something with a clear purpose, it just...I don't know how to describe it. The teddies you make for the kids are just better than the rest. You can feel it somehow. They aren't labeled or marked, but they are always the first picked." Added Mr. Hunt. "There is also the time that the horrible substitute teacher's hair turned blue."

"While I think that this all means that this letter may not be a hoax, I think history has proven that things are probably better than we are afraid of. Anything that offends the Morons this badly can't be all bad, right?" Ms. Markham got the desired smile from Harry. "How about we write a response and ask for more information. Let's specify a time and have them come here. We may have to mention some of why-like the Morons are trying to prevent you getting this information and are not tolerant people. Do you know what they mean by 'we await your owl'? Because otherwise I'm not sure-Oh my!" her musings were interrupted by a beautiful and relatively small brown barn owl flying right in the window and perching on the back of Harry's chair. "Hello beautiful. I guess you will take the letter for us." hoot and nod was the owl's apparent response, "well our letter isn't ready yet, but we are working on it. Harry, go grab some jerky and a bowl for water. Let's get you some food while you wait, beautiful." The owl's only response was to croon happily and fluff up its feathers a bit.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Harry, Mr. Franks, Ms. Markham, and Mr. Hunt got to work on writing a response letter. Afterwards they celebrated Harry's new room and took a closer look at some of the things they had hauled out. The Television was scrap, but there were a few harvestable parts like the cord and some of the knobs and internal small parts. The books were in great shape and included some real treasures. There were a few first edition and illustrated classics in the pile, as well as a few 'how it works' type books. There were also some industry books like about factory processes and how various things are made in bulk. If there was a leaning towards things like drills and the industries that use drills, well, Vernon sold drills for a living and expected his son to follow in his footsteps. It would help him be a better salesman if he better understood how the tools were used in various industries. Unfortunately for Vernon, the fairly expensive books looked like they had never even been opened before. For Harry, it was a goldmine. He decided to keep most of them in his storage facility to protect them from damage and destruction. The day carried on as did those that followed.

Meanwhile, a very beautiful small brown barn owl was making its way to a large castle in Scotland that most people were completely unaware of. It flew into the office of stern older woman who was working on paperwork at her desk. Seeing that it was paper rather than parchment, she decided to open it right away as it was easier to calm the fears and uncertainties of the muggleborn families if they didn't have time to dwell on them. She was very surprised by the contents of the letter. It definitely required an immediate response, but she had responsibilities at the school especially with the headmaster away at the ICW for at least another week. She got up muttering to herself about 'the worst sort of muggles' and approached her fireplace. Once there she took a small handful of powder from a container on the mantel and threw it into the flames. Then she leaned into the now green flames without being burned at all and said, "Filius? Are you there? Would you mind stepping through for a moment. Something rather important has come up and I would appreciate your assistance." Then she backed up and waited. "Flippy?" she called loudly in the empty room.

With a pop a small creature appeared stating, "hows can Flippy helps the kitty professor?"

"Professor Flitwick will be joining me shortly. Please fetch tea and light snack" The creature apparently named Flippy nodded and disappeared with another pop. Moments later the fire was again green and a very short and jovial looking man stepped out of the fire.

"Good evening Minerva. What has disturbed you this evening and how can I help?

"I have sent for tea. You will need it. Have a seat and read this." She handed him the letter she had recently read herself.

"Wait...this can't be...Is this from young Mr. Potter? But I thought he was being trained and schooled in magic already? The way Albus carries on he is in a loving home in the lap of luxury! And while I take what Severus says with a grain of salt, I was more worried about an arrogant spoiled child than a...than this! This is at a minimum neglect if not downright abuse!"

"I told him they were the worst sort of muggles!" Minerva shouted finally losing her temper.

"Whatever are you talking about my friend?"

Minerva proceeded to explain what had really happened when they dropped the fifteen month old Harry Potter on the doorstep of particularly horrible muggles. "I allowed myself to be lulled into compliance with Albus's anecdotes and security concerns. It was all a lie!"

"Well then, we must take advantage of his absence and do what we can immediately! I take it you need to stay here and hold the wards? And this is why you called me? I am most certainly both willing and honored to help. At one time I truly hoped that one day Lily Potter would eventually take my place here. She was such a genius with charms. Much as James was in transfiguration. I wonder who Harry will take after more?"

"As a baby, he was already the spitting image of James but with Lily's eyes. He may not be like either one with how little he knew them and how it seems he was raised."

"Of Course. Imagine every single witch and wizard seems to know more about his history than he does. Well. The note says that his mentors are willing to meet with a school representative any weekday. Perhaps I should head over there right away. Give me about half an hour to wrap up what I was working on, and if you could prepare a new student packed for a muggle raised child I would appreciate it. Thanks."

"Of course. It goes without saying that this needs to be handled discretely and carefully. Also I will be waiting up for you. Please come see me on your return."

"Absolutely" With that Filius headed back through the fireplace to proceed with his new errand.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Unaware of the recent hurried meetings at Hogwarts, Harry proceeded with his summer. As usual for his birthday he and his three favorite people would be attending the museum. There were items for the gift shop to finish and pack up, there were presents for his friends to get ready, and projects to show off or get help on from the available experts. Recently the museum had gotten a grant to be able to include blacksmithing and glass blowing. Though he knew these would be tasks to learn later in life when he was larger, Harry was still fascinated by them. He didn't know it yet but he would be given an opportunity to blow a simple glass bubble and to help the blacksmith. If nothing else, he would be able to make a few old style nails with some guidance. Two days before the trip, and one of the days that Harry spent at least the morning with the Dursleys (though they usually kept him hard at work long enough to make him late to get him in trouble with Mr. Franks)

Filius Flitwick had no trouble finding the school. And while school wasn't in session during the summer, plenty of people still had work to do there. Including Mr. Franks. Upon asking at the office, he was directed to Mr. Franks work area.

He knocked and hearing an invitation opened the door. "Are you Mr. Franks?"

"Who is asking" He replied gruffly.

"My name is Filius Flitwick. We received a response to an invitation letter that worried us greatly."

"Hogwarts?" Filius nodded. "Who's we?"

"I am happy to answer all your questions if you will answer some of mine. May I come in and shut the door? Normally it is actually illegal for you to know about Hogwarts. We have a cardinal law called the statute of secrecy. It specifically means that those not immediately related to someone in our community is not allowed to know about it."

"What are you gonna wipe my mind or something?"

"I can and am certainly supposed to. However I am not inclined to do so. You say you are a mentor to Harry Potter, and that his family tried to prevent him receiving his letter and have told him nothing of his heritage?"

A little more nervously, "Those morons may be his relatives, but they aren't his family. We are! So who exactly are you?

"I can see that. As I said, my name is Filius Flitwick and I am a professor at Hogwarts. Specifically I am the charms professor. You addressed your letter to Minerva McGonagall who is the Deputy Headmistress as well as the transfiguration professor. We are both also heads of houses, think dormitory heads. More importantly we are both friends of Harry's late parents."

"Some friends. Where the hell have you been all his life? While he was getting the snot beat out of him by his 'relatives'" you could hear the disdain, "when he came to school thinking his name was freak? Where were you?" Mr. Franks temper was rising.

"I will never forgive myself for my absence from Mr. Potter's life when he needed help. But I am willing to explain. There are reasons, some good, some bad, but there are real concerns. I take it that young Harry knows nothing of his family history?

"The morons told him his parents killed themselves driving drunk."

"Nothing could be further from the truth. Magic or not, people are people, and some people are evil. A particularly evil wizard was attempting to take over Magical Britain. For reasons I don't know, he began to target two specific families. One of which was the Potters. James, Harry's father, was a decorated Auror, basically a policeman. Lily, a favored student of mine was to become my apprentice for her mastery when they found out and went into hiding. The Evil wizard eventually found their location after a friend betrayed them and attempted to eliminate the family. Something went wrong, or right depending on your point of view. In his attempt to kill young Mr. Potter, he caused his own demise. However, his troops were not eliminated, and many had sufficient political and monetary power to escape or evade justice. Harry was placed with family and all of his records were sealed. The headmaster of our school who was also the leader of the light faction in the war, became the guardian and regaled us all of his joy filled childhood with loving relatives while simultaneously reinforcing how vulnerable to security leaks he might be. Many magicals are utterly clueless in the non-magical world, and have no idea how to even use a phone let alone anything more advanced, and since the non-magicals and the magical offspring of non-magicals and the 'purebloods' who sided with them were the targets of the evil wizard and his soldiers, there was little chance of a 'muggle-born' offering to assist. Moreover very few were aware of the identity of Lily's sister. Because of the nature of Lily's death and the shared blood between her and her sister, a special protection could be raised as long as young Harry could call home the place where his mother's blood dwells. It is an unparalleled level of protection from the remaining death eaters."

"Yeah? Well they may protect him from these 'death eaters' but who or what protects him from the Dursleys?"

"It sounds like you do. And I am incredibly grateful for it. If I can help in any way, I will give you a way to contact me. I owe that young man an enormous debt. I mean to repay it. I assure you that we had no idea. A man we trusted told us he was safe and happy and that if we attempted to make contact we would put him at risk. The later is certainly true. The former apparently was a lie. Albus Dumbledore is a brilliant man, and an incredibly powerful wizard. He was our leader in the war. I can't fathom what his reasons are, but he has reasons for everything he does. He does keep things close to the vest at times when he shouldn't. It can be very frustrating. But he so often ends up being right that at some point we just put up with it. This time he outright lied to us. If we had changed things, we might have made things better for Harry. We might have led killers straight to him. That doesn't change the guilt I feel at his suffering."

"As much as I want to hate you for your absence, if what you say is true, your absence may have saved his life. And he did have us." Mr. Franks paused for a bit.

"Could you tell me about him and the rest of you that helped him out?" A smile lit up his face. "Minerva would have been here in a heartbeat, and she is mighty angry at Albus right now, let me tell you. But Albus is away for a government conference, and as she is the Deputy Headmistress, she is needed to stay at the castle in his absence. While James was a favored student of hers, Lily was mine. As I said Lily was about to start an apprenticeship with me. She was brilliant. We are wondering which of his parents he takes after more, if either given how little he knew them."

"He is an incredible kid. I have no idea how someone that kind and selfless grew up with those morons without becoming totally jaded, but he has managed it. The kid is a genius. He can make almost anything. You give him something to make with his hands and he will knock your socks off. Here." He reached behind him to pull a lap quilt that was off to the side that Harry had made for him. "He made this himself. Shoot, he's made half of the new furniture in this school! He mostly does fabric and fiber or wood crafts. I have never seen the like before." As he said this he passed over the quilt. "There is just something special about the things he makes"

"Indeed. Magic."


End file.
